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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24067474">Name Like Mine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/concertconfetti/pseuds/concertconfetti'>concertconfetti</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Castlevania (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya Needs a Hug, Anxiety Disorder, Belmont Family Shenanigans, Blood Drinking, Curses, Dissociation, Family Reunions, Gen, M/M, Magic, Nonbinary Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post-Season/Series 03, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sick Character, Trevor's got a living sibling, eventual OT3, sorta - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:34:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24067474</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/concertconfetti/pseuds/concertconfetti</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrian wakes from a fitful week of sleep to find a distressingly familiar-looking body collapsed in front of the Belmont Hold. Upon investigation, he finds not Trevor Belmont, but another, unfamiliar human dying of infection and illness and who managed to crack the seal on the hold. Though he has half a mind to stake the trespasser outright, he is curious and ends up taking in the dying stranger as a medical curiosity.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya &amp; Original Character(s), Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades, Sypha Belnades/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. dance upon the edge of death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello and welcome to my first thoroughly beta'd fic! I wanted to explore Adrian's recovery as well as a fundamental change in Trevor's worldview, and so this fic was born. Most notes will be included at the end of the chapter.</p><p>CW for medical invasiveness, suicidal ideation, dissociation, hallucinations, dehumanization (sort of) and blood</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The benefit and detriment of using one's own blood for seals are that when they break, the magic shoots back into the body with monstrous force. Adrian shot awake with a gasp, bewildered and ravenously hungry. This wasn't Gresit, then, not his bedroom, the sheets were too clean and the room smelled of rain. </p><p>Water pooled under his open window; the wind howled through the towers of the impossible castle. Who could be breaking into the Belmont Hold in a storm like this?</p><p>Adrian swayed on his feet - he had no idea how long he'd slept. <i>Not long enough,</i> came the thought with images of sleeping until his body wasted away. He managed to push the intrusive image aside by focusing on closing the window. The freezing water on his feet, the child of the glass as he fought to pull the window closed grounded him. </p><p>The hold, unfortunately, demanded attention. Adrian hurried to the armory where he was storing his clothes for the time being and changed as quickly as he could manage. His mother's sword was there, hovering by his head as he marched through the castle toward the storm and whatever intruder he would need to add to the...defenses at the road.</p><p>Visibility was minimal, given the strong winds, but Adrian had little trouble gliding over the ground to the hold. To his surprise, the physical seal - two large metal doors Adrian added under the stone - remained untouched, and before it lay an unconscious form. Its heartbeat was erratic, breathing harsh and shallow. Adrian knelt next to the body, prodding it with his finger; a large gash was open on the right side of the torso, and the stench of decay rose from it. Whoever this was, was dying. </p><p>Adrian sat there, soaked to the bone, stilled with indecision. Whoever this person was had broken the seal on the Belmont hold, something not even Trevor Belmont had the capacity to do, but the effort had knocked them out. He could easily leave them here to die and leave the body on the road. But there was something curious about the form, about the ragged brown hair covering its face, not to mention the mysterious injury on their side. From a purely scientific standpoint, the body was interesting - who knew when the next interesting distraction would arrive?</p><p>Adrian hummed and delicately lifted the body from the muddy ground. He carried it quickly inside and set about cleaning it off. </p><p>In one of the castle's many bathing rooms, Adrian laid the body down on a set of towels; he noted how it shook from the cold, the rapid change in their breathing. The bag they'd been clutching had been placed in a corner, its contents removed and placed on towels to dry. </p><p>He carefully removed layers of leather armor from the body - most of it was badly damaged, anyway, but not beyond repair - as well as the soiled shirt and trousers. He paused, briefly, regarding the tight bandeau on the chest with scrutiny. He gently prodded the ribs with his fingers, noting the groans of pain from the...from their mouth. Broken ribs then, likely from fighting in and wearing a binding for extended periods. </p><p>Adrian stood, hovering over to the cabinets and rummaging for scissors, along with one of the emergency medical kits his mother had hidden in each of the bathing areas. The body was still alive, and he would need to keep it that way for now.</p><p>When he returned, the body had curled in on itself, shaking and...and crying. They let out a ragged sob but still seemed only semi-conscious to the world. Adrian gently pulled them onto their back.</p><p>"You're incredibly ill and injured," he said coolly, "I will need to remove your clothes to properly clean your wound and dry you."</p><p>The body whimpered but stayed still. With careful, steady movements, Adrian cut through the bandeau and underwear - neither would be salvageable. </p><p>This particular bathroom didn't have recessed baths, like the old bathhouses or similar springs around the world. Instead, it contained several individual tubs. Adrian filled a bucket with warm water and wet a few washcloths before returning to his...the...his patient. With an unobstructed view of the wound, he could tell it had been bandaged reasonably well, though the coverings had worn away some time ago. The wound itself wasn't healing - as he noted outside, it seemed to be decaying somewhat, the edges blackened and seeping. </p><p>Adrian pressed a wet cloth to the wound, earning a hiss from his patient. Dried blood and fluids quickly seeped into the cloth; Adrian felt his stomach clench with <i>need.</i> </p><p><i>We don't need infection leaving us weak,</i> he chided himself. He tossed the soiled cloth into the nearest tub and pulled an alcohol mixture from his kit. </p><p>Sterilizing the area was a long, tedious process. (He silently thanked his luck when the intruder lost consciousness again. Everything was much easier without the constant reminders of their pain.) Once he'd dried the body off, he pulled the patient's hair out of their face and stiffened. </p><p>It was Trevor's face, how could this be Trevor, it couldn't possibly be. Adrian pulled himself away, eyes wide, scanning the face for Trevor's scars. But they weren't there, no gash over the left eye, no chunks missing from either ear. In fact, their face was much more feminine and lacked any sort of stubble that would have marked Belmont's face. Adrian let out a shaky breath - he would have to feed on something after this if he was hallucinating. </p><p>After a moment to collect himself (Adrian braided the intruder's hair to pull himself back to his body, back to the present), he pulled a scalpel from his kit and steadily began to cut away the decaying parts of the wound. Slowly, he created a fresh, sterile wound on the patient's side. Adrian inspected the antibiotic agent his mother had made over two years ago - it had separated somewhat, but he was able to recombine the mixture with his finger. It would likely be less potent now, but it would do until he could mix more. He spread some of the cream onto the wound before dressing it in fresh bandages. </p><p>Surprisingly, the gash was the only major wound on the body, which didn't account for the erratic heart rate and breathing. An infection had set it but it hadn't gone septic. He would need to study the wound closer when the patient was awake. Satisfied with the work he'd done, he left the body to rest on the ground while he moved their possessions to his room. He robotically piled the armor in the corner - the intruder had a sword on them, a consecrated one that he'd left in the entry. He would retrieve that once the room was secured. </p><p>Adrian made his way to a set of cells on the main floor of the castle - there were shackles there that could be easily removed and cleaned. He pulled a set free, along with its anchor, and brought them with him to the bathing room. He set up one of the tubs to run boiling water, threw the shackles in, and washed his hands before carrying the body back up to his room.</p><p>Humanely preparing shackles takes time, time Adrian uses to war with himself about the state of the bindings. Once they are sterilized and cleaned, part of him wants to lock the shackles on the body and be done with it. A quieter, more reasoned part of his mind reminds him that he's not just working with an object.</p><p>
  <i>This is a patient. We need to be safe, yes, but more wounds will only cause more infection.</i>
</p><p><i>It will complicate the study,</i> he conceded. Once he'd returned to the room, he took the time to slip a clean tunic, simple undergarments, and trousers back onto the patient. They grumbled, sleepily, apparently returning to some level of awareness. He let them sleep, and watched them toss and turn while he lined the shackles with soft leather and a bit of fur. Enough to prevent chafing and scaring. More than he was offered.</p><p>He used the last of his strength to embed the anchor into the bedroom floor, locking the restraints onto the intruder's wrists as they turned in their sleep. He stood there for a moment longer, before his hunger and his memories forced him out of the room. He locked the door behind him and stalked down to blood storage. For this study to be productive, he would have to be fed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter Title is from <i>Holy Water</i> by Astronautalis </p><p>Adrian is a doctor underneath everything, and it can feel good to escape into specific modes of living. Our Nonbinary friend gets a name next chapter, I promise.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. prove that i'm alive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adrian and Gideon Belmont have a chat, and whatever has infected the hunter takes a turn for the worse.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one's a long one folx</p><p>Content warning for mentions of mucus and vomit, self-harm, blood, imprisonment, mind control (mentioned)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Morning came in grey and dreary and wet - the rain never stopped. Adrian sat in his mother’s study with an empty, bloodstained glass resting on top of a few books he’d discarded. He hadn't found anything useful so far, which meant he would have to examine the wound again and talk to the patient. Some details as to how they acquired their injury would be beneficial. </p><p>Adrian sighed, and scrubbed a hand over his face, and strode over to his mother's medicine stores for willow bark. He snatched a nearly empty bottle and unceremoniously dumped its remaining contents in a beaker of boiling water. After a few minutes he strained then liquid into the now empty vial. Adrian wasn't entirely sure what his patient had, but when he'd checked on them in the early hours of the morning, they'd developed a fever. Hopefully, a dose of salicylic acid would help them stay cogent through a diagnostic conversation. </p><p><i>What am I doing?</i> Adrian gripped the desk and squeezed his temples. <i>There is a hunter, a fourth hunter now, Adrian, in your bedroom. In this castle.</i> He let out a shuddering breath.  At this point, he couldn't in good conscience rid himself of this medical mystery. He'd have to do his best to help. <i>They live or die. Either way I'll be alone again when it's over. </i> </p><p>The patient was still asleep when he arrived in what was once his room. A glimmer of sweat stood out on their brow; Adrian set down a pitcher and dabbed a cloth in the cold water, laying it gently on their forehead. They stirred slightly, eyelids fluttering open. They groaned and curled in on themselves, gasping when their ribs contracted.</p><p>"You've broken a number of ribs," Adrian said softly, trying to offset some understandable shock with practiced bedside manner. "Drink some water, when you're able." The patient nodded and squeezed their eyes shut again.</p><p>"It hurts," they mumbled, and the whine in their voice was just this side of familiar. </p><p>"As I said, you broke a number of ribs," Adrian murmured, fidgeting with the small vial of salicylic acid. He popped the lid off vial and measured out a dose into the upturned top. "Here," he held out the dose. The patient narrowed their eyes at the liquid and glanced down at their hands. Adrian sighed, set the medication aside and lifted his patient into a sitting position.</p><p>There was pain clear on their face but nary a quip or insult. The figure looked remarkably like Him, like Belmont - like a Belmont - but with none of the hallmarks he was used to. His head spun. <i>Focus, Adrian.</i> </p><p>Once the patient was settled, he handed them the medication, which they took without fuss, though their face scrunched a bit at the taste. They took the glass of water Adrian offered and downed most of it quickly before seeming to center themselves, holding the glass in their lap. As they were, they looked remarkably like a child. </p><p>"So," the patient said, voice cracked from fatigue and fever, "what information do I owe you?"</p><p>Adrian faced his patient with what he hoped was the detached mannerisms of a doctor. "You can start," he said coolly, all comfort gone from his voice, "with what you were doing at the ruins on my property." Best to stay vague; any information could be an advantage for him should he need to defend himself. </p><p>They sighed. "I apologize I...my family used to live on this land. I was trying to access their library, hoping to figure out what is wrong with me." They gestured at their torso. "My name is Gideon. From the uh...restraints I'd wager you already know my family name."</p><p>“Humor me.”</p><p>“It’s Belmont. My name is Gideon Belmont.” </p><p>“A hunter, then, as I thought,” Adrian scoffed. “Coming to kill the vampire on the hill.” </p><p>Gideon raised their hands, attempting, Adrian assumed, to appear deferent. “Please, I had no intention of disturbing you - “ </p><p>"Yet you came armed. Your sword is consecrated."</p><p>"It's the only weapon I have, and I had to ride, hard, for a day to get here. Though I am…" they swallowed before locking eyes with Adrian, finding some resolve, "though I am not a woman, many perceive me as one. You expect me to travel unarmed?"</p><p>Their eyes were storm-sick blue and Adrian found he couldn't maintain eye contact for long.  He took a moment to collect himself, running a hand through his hair as he settled into a chair close to the bed. </p><p>"That, I suppose, will have to do as an explanation, Gideon," he said, folding his hands in his lap. "My name is… Adrian. I've tended to your wound as best I can, but I need to know what happened to you if I'm going to treat you farther."</p><p>Gideon narrowed their gaze at Adrian and looked down at the shackles around their wrists. "I have to say that is...not what I expected you to say given the shackles," they said, shaking the chains for emphasis.</p><p>"You expect me to trust a trained hunter, even as weak as you are? I do not have a death wish." Adrian's voice rang hollow, nothing specifically false about his statement but the conviction wasn't there. </p><p>“Why the treatment at all?” Gideon asked. “Don’t misunderstand me, I am grateful to be alive, and you seem to be a doctor of a sort, a good one, it’s just. I had to have been close to death.” </p><p>Adrian paused for a moment; he’d wrestled with the question himself all night. There were things he could justify. (Giving his birth name, for example, protected him more so than Alucard did. Alucard was too public a name.) But he couldn’t come to a solid, definable answer as to why he’d dragged this lost Belmont into his home - curiosity, certainly, but curiosity didn’t require them to be alive. He sighed. </p><p>“Curiosity. And I suppose some sort of threadbare duty to heal the sick,” he said. It was as true as anything else. </p><p>“What’s next, cleansing the lepers?” Gideon said with the ghost of a smile. Would every Belmont insist on comparing him to the Messiah? Gideon read the displeasure in his face and continued, “Sorry, old habit. Thank you, for cleaning me up.” </p><p>“Don’t thank me yet,” Adrian said quietly. "That wound of yours was infected but the infection had not reached your blood and does not account for your fever. I need to know what happened.” </p><p>Gideon frowned. “I was...A priest in the town I lived in had been blackmailing me into doing work for the church. I saved him from a pack of night creatures when they first started coming for us. He knew I was a Belmont.” Gideon looked away, finding a point in the fireplace to stare at. “I should have let him die,” they muttered bitterly. “Because of me, a good man and his family are likely dead.” </p><p>“They are not here,” Adrian said calmly, “but you are. What did this priest do to you?” </p><p>“After the death of Dracula, the priest requested my presence at the church.” Gideon’s grip on their glass tightened, and Adrian heard their heart rate increase. “He wanted me to tell him where the Belmont Hold was. ‘All kinds of weapons in there. Have to keep the people safe, you know.’ And I knew - they’d taken a beggar woman out to the woods to burn her as a witch. They were looking for monsters amongst the townsfolk in order to bring them in line.” Gideon clenched their jaw and glared daggers into the fire before turning back to Adrian. “I refused and made to leave. My guard was not what it should have been and the bastard managed to slash my side. I killed him for it.”</p><p>“Did you get a look at the blade?” </p><p>“Only for a moment,” Gideon said, looking defeated. “It was consecrated, might still be if ex-communication works the way the church says it does. It stank to high heaven of rot, but there wasn’t anything on the blade but oil. I would have taken it with me, but the rest of the priesthood was starting to gather and I had to make a run for it. The baker I worked for - he housed me, gave me clean bandages and hot water to cleanse the wound. I told him and his family to get out of town. When I woke yesterday they were gone and-- how long have I been asleep?” </p><p>“Half a day.” </p><p>Gideon nodded. “When I woke yesterday, the wound showed no signs of healing - the edges looked black, there was no puss, and the blood flowed as if I had just been cut. I decided my only chance of fighting this would be to get to the Belmont Hold, if it was still there, and consult my family’s books on the matter.” </p><p>Adrian nodded, writing a few things down on a scrap of parchment. None of this accounted for the fever - perhaps riding in the rain with a lowered immune system? But disease wasn’t carried in the rain.  “Did you come into contact with anyone during your ride here?” He asked flatly. </p><p>“No. I dismounted and shooed away my horse at the edge of the property and walked to the ruins. It was so dark I could barely make out this castle in the distance” Gideon recalled, though they stopped to cough harshly into their shoulder. “Breaking the seal took more energy from me than I thought, and I passed out. Next thing I remember, I woke up here, in the dark.” </p><p>Gideon fell silent but was soon consumed with a wracking cough, one that shook their body, made them double in on themselves in pain but otherwise produced little in terms of mucus. Adrian stood and rifled through the wardrobe at the other end of the room, returning with an old shirt. He held it up and Gideon snatched it, coughing into the fabric and trying desperately to breathe. At this, Adrian felt a panic rise in his chest - was he watching this person die? Would Trevor forgive him if he knew a Belmont died on Adrian’s watch? </p><p>Eventually, the cough subsided, and Gideon drank what water remained in their glass. The shirt fabric was misted, ever so slightly, with blood - not enough to suggest tuberculosis, but enough to confirm things were progressing negatively. For the first time in their conversation, Gideon noticed real emotion on Adrian’s face.</p><p>“That bad, huh,” they rasped. Adrian quirked an eyebrow, questioning. Gideon smiled. “You look worried - like actually worried and not just curious. I’m guessing things are grim.” </p><p>“They are,” Adrian paused for a moment, considering his next words. “Things are exceedingly grim. I will need to run up to one of the labs and see if I can figure out a solution, and quickly. I apologize for keeping you bound but you shouldn’t move anyway - are you hungry?” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“I will find some dry foodstuffs and return with more water before starting research,” he said. “You need rest, above all else. I will check in as often as I can.” As he stood and strode toward the door, he listened to Gideon - their breathing was shallow and raspy, and their heart rate as erratic as it had been the other night. If he was going to keep them alive, he would need to work fast. </p><p>“Good luck, Adrian,” Gideon said halfheartedly. Adrian paused at the door but did not look back as he made his way to the kitchens. His hands balled into fists, and he felt blood running from his palms where his nails pressed into his skin. This hunter, this Belmont, had the audacity to...to what? His sudden rage wasn’t sure; perhaps to be polite? To accept his help with little complaint, nary an insult? To be so unlike Trevor, he thought, and still be capable of engendering sympathy. Empathy. </p><p>Adrian growled at the thought. When he returned to isolation, he resolved to be more like his father and ignore the world outside of the castle. But now another Belmont had wormed their way in and he had to keep them alive. <i>Why?</i> Gideon had asked. <i>Why me?</i></p><p><i>Because he would never forgive me, and I hate him for it</i>, Adrian thought, angry more with himself than Trevor. Still, he had a patient, and while ‘honoring his mother’ had gotten him into more trouble than good, he would not shirk the duties she instilled in him. He had a patient, and he would do his best to save them.</p><p>Gideon managed to eat a bit after he dropped off a new pitcher of water and a plate of bread and cheese. A good sign to say the least. He spent the rest of the day and well into the evening pouring through books - some pulled from his father’s study as well as his mother’s - in order to match all of the symptoms of the apparent disease. None of the infections he found could cause the type of fever, fatigue, and cough present in Gideon, at least not as quickly as this. There were diseases that affected night creatures and half-humans, but all of them required direct contact with the infected. After pacing his mother's study for hours, he remembered to check on Gideon, and rushed down to his old room. </p><p>“Adrian?” Gideon said weakly as he approached the door - he wouldn’t have heard it if not for his enhanced senses. When he stepped into the room his face fell - Gideon had vomited, and there was a goodly amount of blood mixed in mass expelled from their stomach. When they looked at him, their eyes looked hazy and far away, like they were in a daze. He rushed to their side and started undoing the shackles. “Sorry...about the floor,” they said, leaning back against the headboard. “I couldn’t… it hurts…” </p><p>“It’s alright, it’s alright,” Adrian said soothingly. “I should have checked on you. I should be the one apologizing.” He placed the back of his hand against Gideon’s forehead, and both of them hissed at the contact. It was as if Gideon’s body was on fire - they weren’t even able to sweat out the fever at this point. “I’m going to need to carry you to my mother’s...my study. I will get you there as quickly and gently as I can.”</p><p>Gideon nodded and closed their eyes; they winced terribly as he lifted them off the bed. Adrian carried the limp and distressingly-light Belmont from the chamber. Their breath was ragged and hot against his chest, ghosting disconnected words through the fabric of his shirt. Folk songs and prayers shook through Gideon's lips even as their gaze remained unfocused. Whatever they had been infected with was progressing quickly now.</p><p>The walk through the castle was long and cold - Adrien could map the changing temperatures by the shivers that wracked Gideon's body. They reached his mother's study on the eastern end of the castle; Adrian wrenched the door open, awkwardly shifting Gideon in the process and cringing at their weak cry of pain. </p><p>The room itself was musty and though he’d cleaned the room in the process of research, there was still a fine layer of dust on the daybed. The dhampir did his best to clean its surface before gently laying the ailing hunter down. Gideon grunted (the transition was uncomfortable) but otherwise moved little. Adrien set himself to the task of finding various pain-killing herbs and books of research.</p><p>"Unfortunately, I do not know what is ailing you, Belmont," he said, mostly to himself. The hunter hummed in recognition at their name, and this whole situation tugged at the hole the other Belmont had left. He paused - there wasn't time for that now. His petty anger would be the death of someone, quite immediately, if he didn't act. "So we have a few options. I can try to slow down the disease - give me time to research a proper cure if one can be found. The medications are trivial enough to mix, but I have no guarantee they'll work."</p><p>Gideon mumbled a few verses of the bible weakly. Helpful.</p><p>"Our second option is...less pleasant. But it will keep you moving and alive."</p><p>"...what's the point?"</p><p>Adrian's throat tightened. He turned to find Gideon's terrible storm-sea eyes fixed on him. They swallowed and smiled grimly. "I'm the last of a shitty legacy. I tried to help people and now look at me." They gestured out ruefully before adjusting their posture. "Your medicines would be better suited to others."</p><p>"What others?" Adrian growled. "Humanity is wretched. There were few I trusted before and now…" He choked on the words. Gideon's hazy gaze met his again; he cleared his throat. "I have no answer for you, as to the point of living. Likely there is none. But you were unfortunate enough to collapse on property under my care, and I know a man who would never forgive me if I let you die."</p><p>Gideon's brow furrowed. Their doctor strode across the room, several bottles gripped in his hands. </p><p>"You're a Belmont," he said simply, pulling a chair up to their bedside. "But not the last."</p><p>Silence filled the room, though Adrian swore he could hear Gideon's bones rattle as they shivered.</p><p>"What's option two, then?" They spoke with a weak and weary voice.</p><p>"We try my blood," Adrian murmured, pulling a standing tray to the chair. He laid out the various herbs and an impressive set of scalpels. "Aside from enthralling properties, which are likely diminished given I am a dhampir, it should help your body heal and fight off the infection while I find a more permanent and preferable cure. Barring that….I can turn you, if you're so inclined."</p><p>Gideon inhaled sharply and shook as they coughed hard enough to worry Adrian. Did I waste too much time? he thought, though thankfully the hunter regained their breath after a moment. </p><p>"Well. I know enough to know option two is more likely to work," they said. Their smirk was mirthless, more a gesture of understanding and it was so close to His that Adrian had to fight the urge to punch his patient. Gideon huffed and murmured something. He closed his eyes and shook himself out of the moment.</p><p>"I'm sorry, what?" He said - he loathed making someone so sick repeat themselves but consent to treatment was vital.</p><p>"The blood thing," Gideon mumbled, turning their head to Adrian, "do it."</p><p>Setting up for a medical procedure was surprisingly calming - a sense of normalcy washed over Adrian that he hadn't felt since well before his mother's death. He'd been practicing in a small town at the edge of Wallachia's borders when he lost everything, and this felt shockingly similar. Not like the cold observation when he first brought Gideon into his home; this was closer to what his mother called a doctor’s duty. </p><p>He swiped a high proof alcohol-water mixture around Gideon's lips - more to clean them than kill the virus, as he was reasonably certain he was immune. The hunter's face wrinkled in disgust at the scent; Adrian whispered soft apologies before swiping his own arm with the same mixture. With his off-hand, he positioned a scalpel over his arm before looking up at his patient.</p><p>"Gideon," he started, pulling his patient's focus from the window, "I know I mentioned enthrallment, and given your knowledge of wards, I would wager you know a bit about the nature of this particular curse."</p><p>"You...you talk a <i> lot</i>." A surprised, manic laugh escaped Adrian at Gideon's mild frustration.</p><p>"I apologize. I just...I want you to know I do not relish this and will do my best to avoid or mitigate any ill effects. I do not wish to compromise your will."</p><p>Gideon stared at him, unfocused, before seeming to snap back into themselves. They nodded. "No choice but to trust you," they said, a small, genuine smile gracing their features. Horrid anxiety and guilt clawed its way around Adrian's chest. He swallowed around a scream building in his throat and pulled the scalpel across his forearm as a distraction.</p><p>The pain was minimal, but enough to focus him on the task at hand. He cradled Gideon's head with his left hand, placing his arm to their lips. They sat there, still in and out of themselves, but eventually, their tongue swiped at the cut experimentally. The Belmont gagged and coughed, blood spattering against the window.</p><p>"It's easier if you close your eyes and take pulls… like from a whiskey," he murmured. Gideon nodded and took a few deep breaths to steady themselves before pressing their lips to Adrian's leaking arm. He hissed at the weak pull against his skin, his entire body going rigid with the intimacy and horror of it. Everything in him screamed, the edges of his vision going black. He forced himself to count the items on his medical tray, down to the ridges in the willow bark. </p><p>Counting grounded him, and soon he was able to turn back to Gideon. Their pulls of his blood were still weak, though there seemed to be more light in their eyes when they opened them again. After a time, Adrian pulled his arm away from the hunter, gently laying their head back down before turning to lick at his own wound to help it seal.</p><p>"How do you feel?" Adrian said, pulling out a damp cloth to help clean the Belmont's face. </p><p>They groaned. "Gross and awful."</p><p>"Aside from generational guilt?" He jabbed. Gideon chuckled softly.</p><p>"Still bad but less...uhh...less nearly-dead? Does that help?"</p><p>Adrian smiled, though it was tight-lipped and cold, never reaching his eyes. "It sounds like we have at least bought time, as I thought we might." </p><p>He set about cleaning the room before returning to Gideon, who'd fallen asleep against the cold glass of the window by the time he finished. He lifted them up gently, and decided to take them to a cleaner guest room - one he'd made up for other reasons, but would allow Gideon some sunlight in the mornings. At the very least, they wouldn't have to stare at the shackles he'd placed them in before. He still didn't trust the hunter, but enthrallment gave him the smallest bit of control over his own defense, even if he hated himself for thinking it. </p><p><i>Only if necessary,</i> he reminded himself, though the darker parts of him chided that necessary was only a matter of time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here we go! I do want to say that the "enthrallment" really isn't going to come into play much - Adrian is serious about mitigating those effects. It will come into play in the inevitable "I don't trust you" push and pull between these two. </p><p>Also I promise Trevor is gonna show up soon. Gideon and Adrian's relationship is fun though and also important.  Something to look forward to.</p><p>Chapter title is once again from <i>Holy Water</i> by Astronautalus.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. i've seen this room, i've walked this floor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gideon does their best to make a friend, and Adrian has shitty coping mechanisms</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW for panic attacks, dissociation, self-harm, mild mind control, and terrible coping mechanisms</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adrian watched Gideon settle into the bed and mumble in their sleep, making sure they were breathing without difficulty. Tired as he was, he had half a mind to sleep in one of the plush chairs by the fireplace, but the longer he stayed, the more clearly he could hear Taka and Sumi in his mind. It was tempting to let the panic wash over him, give into the eventual blackout, but Gideon needed him to focus, to be a Doctor until they were cured. The darkness of rest would come, but not now.</p><p>Adrian turned sharply on his heel and tore away from the room, pushing the panic down, down until his feet slowed and the castle walls stopped spinning around him. <i>Focus.</i> Gideon had worn the same clothes for three days - the tunic and loose cloth pants were clean when he’d clothed them, but would need a good washing or two to be viable again. Gideon's hide armor rested in an unceremonious pile near the wardrobe in his room, consecrated sword cradled in the ruined cuirass. Adrian sighed, and set about locating stores of clothing strewn around the castle.</p><p>As much as they resembled Trevor Belmont, Gideon's build was closer to Adrian's in terms of muscle mass. He'd neglected to ask whether Gideon preferred masculine or feminine clothing, so he grabbed a mix of both, along with a few neutral black robes acquired from a Speaker train. He tried not to think about it too hard. </p><p>It was as he piled the clothes in Gideon's temporary wardrobe that he remembered Gideon's binding. Adrian frowned. The practice of chest binding wasn't unfamiliar, his mother had a patient or two who wished to appear male despite their feminine figure, and the lower echelons of vampire society often bound their chests as cosmetic spells and surgeries were rarely available to them.</p><p>In their current state, Gideon would need to go without a bandeau for a while. Adrian settled for leaving a short, apologetic note along with directions to (and for) the nearest baths, before going about the rest of his preparations.  </p><p>Morning found Adrian pooling what local currency he could find and wandering out into the rain. He stood near the hold, huddled under a ruined archway trying to remember which of the towns to avoid. He pushed past the discomfort of remembering Sypha packing their cart and focused on what Belmont had told him.</p><p>
  <i>"Look most of the places around here don't have names," Trevor said, running a hand over his face. "But uh, the biggest village is Argeş. That's where the church is." The day was warm, sunlight flitting through the trees. The smell of poppies and mums filled the air, growing well out of the bounds of what had once been the Belmont garden. Trevor was bathed in sunlight, and he looked at peace in a way Adrian hadn't seen him before.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Are they the ones?" Adrian asked quietly. Their normal back and forth, the insults and ribbing, stopped sometime after their fight ended. Adrian watched them both pull away.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Trevor frowned and seemed apart - closer to the cart now, though Adrian hadn't seen him move. "Let's just say it's best not to go there. And maybe keep an eye out for mobs coming from the south. I don't want you dying to those folks."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Trevor! Are you going to help load the cart or not?"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Shit," Trevor looked at him apologetically. "I need to help Sypha or she'll kill me and leave me in a ditch."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"I am sure it wouldn't be your first time in such a situation," Adrian said. Trevor rolled his eyes, hefted a sack of supplies, and was gone.</i>
</p><p>Adrian found himself hyperventilating, leaning against the archway for support. His face was hot and he felt his hands clawing at his chest, breaths coming in quick heaves. He wanted, desperately, to call for help but his voice failed him; when his eyes finally focused, all he could see were two bodies on spikes at the end of the path. </p><p>He turned, gripping his torso and sinking to the ground, mud and water be damned. <i>There is a village west of here,</i> he thought, though his inner voice was drowned out by the loud rush of images. Trevor, Sypha, his mother's screams, his father's last words. <i>There is a village to the west, and if I don't get food another...Gideon will…</i></p><p>"Move," he said between gasps, willing his limbs into motion. Still, it took time before Adrian felt he could control himself like he was present in his body again. The rain still poured around him, and his clothes were soaked through. He had no idea how long he'd sat there.</p><hr/><p>"Don't envy your walk home," the butcher said, placing the last of Adrian's orders into his basket. "Not sure why you came here from Argeş."</p><p>Adrian offered a half-hearted shrug. "I needed to get out," he said. It had been raining for a while, hadn't it? Perhaps that was enough of a reason. The butcher nodded and handed Adrian his change.</p><p>"Still, you look exhausted. Why don't you rest at the inn across the way for a bit? Maybe the rain will lighten up."</p><p>Adrian shook his head. "Thank you for the meats," he muttered and pressed himself through the door and back into the rain. A shiver ran down his spine but he was long past feeling the cold. His legs carried him to the edge of the small village back toward Dracula's...his castle.</p><p>"Holy shit." Gideon was in the kitchen when he arrived, their hair still damp from the baths. They'd opted for one of the robes, Adrian noted, absently carrying his goods to the counter. "You look like shit, what the hell happened?" </p><p>"It's raining," Adrian said, as if that was an answer, slowly unloading the various foodstuffs. "You needed food."</p><p>"Yeah, okay, but Jesus," Gideon huffed. He heard their bare feet pad against the floor as they trotted away. </p><p>Adrian stiffened sharply as a towel was wrapped around his shoulders. He turned quickly and hissed, all fang and deadly intent; Gideon's hands shot up, and they backed away slowly.</p><p>"Sorry, guess I'm quieter than I thought," Gideon said slowly. The fight drained slowly out of Adrian's face and he sagged against the counter. "If I may approach, you really should sit down." </p><p>Adrian nodded, head in his hands. Every muscle in his body tightened, loaded like a spring, as Gideon's hands urged him up and over to the table. They adjusted the towel around his shoulders and put a pile of others on the table in front of him.</p><p>"In your own time," they said quietly. Adrian breathed, hard, into his hands as he dragged them down his face. He focused on Gideon, on what he could tell about them based on sound. Their heartbeat was stronger, breathing easier and even. Soft, murmured songs followed them around the kitchen as they found homes for the various vegetables, spices, and dry goods. They hesitated, of course, with the meat, unsure of its place in this room.</p><p>"There is a drawer," he said, voice cracked and pitched higher than usual, "to the left of the sink that will keep the meat cold."</p><p>Gideon hummed and soon Adrian felt their presence at the table. He pulled his hands away from his face.</p><p>"You're shaking, Adrian." He blinked and stared at the table, refusing to look at Gideon's face. "You ought to change and dry off."</p><p>"Why bother," he mumbled. </p><p>"Because you've been gone for hours and the cold will sink into your bones, and then I'll be without a doctor," Gideon said with calm measured reason. "And attacks of panic are not unfamiliar to me - you're going to run out of energy if we don't pull you back into your body."</p><p>Adrian looked at them then, leveling a cold, practiced look at Gideon. Their face was neutral, and they...appeared to be breathing in a pattern, though he couldn't tell why. </p><p>"How...how do you know I am not within myself?" </p><p>Gideon smiled softly. "Like I said, I'm not unfamiliar with the sensation."</p><p>Adrian pulled the towel tightly around his shoulders. He cleared his throat. "When it gets bad, the panic, what do you do?" He asked.</p><p>Gideon smiled softly. "If I have the means, I try to eat something, perhaps bathe. When was the last time you ate?"</p><p>"I fed last -"</p><p>"No, not fed - ate," Gideon emphasized, standing from their spot and the table and striding to the counter again. "You told me last night you're a dhampir."</p><p>"I don't need to eat, necessarily."</p><p>"Yeah, but eating's important to feeling…" they pause for a moment. Adrian had emphatically cursed most of humanity last night if they were recalling correctly. They tested the bread they'd baked - still warm, but cool enough to eat - and tore off a sizable chunk. "Eating's important to feeling real." </p><p>Adrian heard them retrieve a plate and glass, and soon enough there was a hunk of bread and a glass of water in front of him. He tried to focus</p><p>"Something simple." Gideon's patience took him off guard. "If I cooked you something, it would get too overwhelming. Just...focus on the sensations of the bread, how it feels in your hands, how it smells, how it tastes. You can say them out loud or not, as long as you focus on how everything feels."</p><p>Adrian met Gideon's eyes, and something slotted into place. They were trying to help, on his terms. It's the enthrallment he thought but their eyes - still dark blue, but full of life now where they were faded, unfocused. Kind eyes. No choice but to trust you, they'd said, hadn't they? He scowled, feeling foolish, but still found himself palming the bread.</p><p>It was warm - it must have been cooling when he came in, though he hadn't smelled it - and the crust was crisp. It made a soft tacking sound under his nails. He ran the pad of one of his fingers over the exposed interior - soft, almost perfectly so, and spongy. It tore easily and tasted sour. Steam gently wafted from the exposed bread. </p><p>"You said you worked as a baker," Adrian said quietly. He tore a piece of the bread and chewed on it slowly.</p><p>"Yeah, during the day. I lived with one of the butcher's apprentices," Gideon said, cleaning up some of the remaining flour and ingredients. "It was a decent life, and the apprentice...he didn't mind that I left in the evenings. Didn't ask questions."</p><p>"You trusted him?" </p><p>"Had to," Gideon said matter of factly. "He trusted me." They rinsed their hands in the sink before turning back to Adrian, still picking at the crust of bread. "Any better?" </p><p>Adrian looked down at himself - his clothes were damp and sticking to him uncomfortably. There was dirt caked on his legs and the tails of his coat. He looked like shit. </p><p>"I...look like shit," he said solemnly. </p><p>"You really do," Gideon said with a smile. "At least change into some dry clothes. I can help you to...somewhere I have no idea where you sleep."</p><p>"I...don't know either," Adrian admitted. "I think a bath would do me good, help me clear my head. I'll be fine." Gideon nodded and turned back to the dishes still on the counter. Adrian strode to the sink and turned on the water, startling Gideon, before leaving the kitchen.</p><p>He ended up in the baths nearest Gideon's current quarters - there was a discarded towel on one of the benches and a pile of soiled bandages that marked their presence. He was glad for one thing - Gideon seemed to know more about mending wounds than Trevor ever did, and he could trust them to tend to themselves. </p><p>This particular bath was one of his favorites - <i>and a favorite of Sypha's,</i> his mind unhelpfully reminded him. It was styled after the ancient Roman baths, with grand mosaics lining the baked-clay floors; a large, recessed bathing pool; and benches lining the walls. His father had added cabinets for supplies. It was built as a social space, which baffled Adrian as a child - they so rarely had guests enough to justify such a cavernous space. As an adult, he assumed it was built when his father still pretended at court, at being Count Dracula instead of Vlad Tepeş. He felt himself drifting away, losing sight of the present - he shook his head to shake the memories and stalked to a cabinet for soaps and oils. </p><p>He noted a lack of towels but pushed that thought out of his mind for the moment. He pressed a switch on the wall and listened to the water rush in from the castle's filtration system, steam rising from the scalding water. Adrian disrobed, tossed his soiled clothing to the side, and slipped into the too hot water, hissing at the momentary pain.</p><p>The pain was good, immediate. It distracted from the shameful scars crisscrossing his body, wrapped around his arms. He felt...real, to use Gideon's phrasing. He sank into the water, leaning against the bench lining the pool, and closed his eyes. </p><p>Adrian lost sense of time for a while, focusing on the sting of his skin as the water cooled around him. It would heat up again in time. What pulled his attention, however, was the quiet, careful tap of feet on the tile. He quirked an eye open and Gideon froze, a pile of towels held out in front of them.</p><p>"Sorry I was trying to be quiet but not sneak up on you and you do know that the water you're in is burning your skin right?" Gideon breathed the words flowing out of them in a panic. </p><p>"That was the point, yes," he said, turning to properly face the hunter. Gideon frowned.</p><p>"When I said bathing helped me return to myself, I didn't mean 'because it sears my skin from my flesh.'" Gideon dropped the towels and strode over to the bath. They dropped down into a low squat and felt the water. "How'd you even get water that hot anyway?" </p><p>"The castle has supplies of water and machinery that heat it, filters and cleans it, and sends it to the baths," Adrian says, head lolling back to stare at the ceiling. He sounded bored. Gideon's brow furrowed; they gathered the ends of their robe, pulled it over their knees, and slipped their legs into the bath with a soft hiss. </p><p>"You have all of this...you can easily draw baths or water for dishes," Gideon sighed, "things people could barely dream of and you sound bored by them."</p><p>Adrian narrowed his gaze, counting the beams in the high wood ceilings. "I grew up with them," he said after a while. "Should I brace for a lecture?"</p><p>"No," Gideon said, shifting in an attempt to give Adrian some privacy. They sat there in silence for a while, uncomfortably staring in different directions. "The man I lived with, in the village," Gideon murmured, almost to themselves. "He was a werewolf. I was helping him manage the condition."</p><p>Adrian sat up; he wanted to tell Gideon to stop talking, stop telling him about their life, to leave. Instead, he reached for the soap he'd pulled out for himself and silently worked it into a lather in his hands.</p><p>"I found out about him first, actually," they continued, "found him desperately trying to lock himself in the cellar. The house, it was his family's house and they used to be vintners." Gideon shrugged half-heartedly. "He had this setup but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't shackle himself to the wall. So I helped him."</p><p>"Gideon…"</p><p>"The next morning he came to me and asked what I wanted, you know, to keep quiet." Gideon ignored Adrian's words of protest and continued telling their story to the walls. "I think I laughed in his face. Not my most delicate moment. I told him I knew his secret so he may as well know one of mine, so I -"</p><p>"Gideon!"</p><p>"What?" Gideon turned; Adrian stood in front of them, closer than before. The water rippled slightly around his hands. He was shaking.</p><p>"Why are you telling me this?" He demanded. Gideon shrugged.</p><p>"You asked me if I trusted the man I lived with."</p><p>"So it's the thrall, then," Adrian said, as though that was a matter of fact. Gideon frowned, glaring at the dhampir.</p><p>"No. I'm telling you this because you saved my life, and I have to trust you," Gideon said. "But you don't trust me. Makes sense - Belmonts, Vampires, and Dhampirs historically don't get along. But you know what people say about my family, you don't know me so I figured - "</p><p>"Let me stop you, Belmont," Adrian spat. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest and ignored Gideon's eyes scanning over his scars. His eyes burned with a rage Gideon hadn't expected out of him. "I do not trust you, it's true. And I do not harbor any desire to know you any better than I do. I want to solve the mystery of your illness, heal you, and then I hope you will leave here. Hell, maybe Trevor will come for you and you can both leave me the hell alone."</p><p>Gideon blinked, their heart rate rising, and their breathing coming faster. Panic painted their features. Adrian pressed on, crowding Gideon such that they pulled their legs out of the water and close to their chest.</p><p>"We are not and will not be friends. You will leave and I will be able to sleep until the world forgets me. Now, stop talking and leave me alone." </p><p>Adrian regretted the command as soon as it left his lips. Gideon's face twisted, panic morphed into frustration as their arms started to shake. They opened their mouth; Adrian watched it snap shut, almost mechanically. They glared, tears welling in their eyes. The smoothness with which they stood and left clashed with the rage and betrayal of Gideon's features, the whiteness of their knuckles. As soon as they crossed the threshold of the room, they broke into a sprint, leaving Adrian blessedly, painfully, alone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter Title from Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen</p><p>I swear to god Trevor is going to be in this fic guys, I promise. Hopefully next chapter. There is just a lot of establishing stuff and getting Adrian to a point where he's not just...actively hostile all the time takes time. Who knew. But seriously thank you for reading so far! I'm having a lot of fun writing this. Also thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dredshirtroberts">@dredshirtroberts</a> for beta-ing!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. i used to live alone before i knew ya</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gideon throws some punches, Adrian explains how he got here, Trevor and Sypha split up, and tales are told.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Content warning for flashbacks, implied child abuse, questionable coping mechanisms, alcoholism, feelings of abandonment, nightmares, and insomnia.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gideon tucked themselves into a window sill in some far-flung study of the castle. There were many bound volumes lining shelves in the room, along with various artifacts and paintings. It reminded them, grimly, of the Belmont hold - skulls and bones displayed like trophies. Gideon pulled their knees to their chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. </p><p>They'd been a fool. Adrian promised to mitigate the thrall as much as possible. Of course, they knew enough about vampiric thralls to know there wasn't a very strong one gripping them - they could barely see any change to their eyes, and they didn't feel the need to seek Adrian out. But direct commands Gideon couldn't refuse. And Adrian had no issue commanding them.</p><p>"Gideon, you bleeding heart," they grumbled to themselves. They laid their head on their knees and stared out the window. "Look at me now, Trev. Out of the church’s grasp and right into a dhampir's thrall."</p><p>Gideon took a breath and made an effort to deepen their voice. "You saw a sad, pretty face, Gid. What did you expect to happen, that you'd just make friends?"</p><p>"Well, I just figured he needed someone to talk to," Gideon's voice trembled and they let out a ragged sob. Their breaths shuddered quickly through their chest, too quickly, you’re panicking, Gideon and their sobs slowly turned to screams. </p><p>
  <i>The priests always crowded them into corners or against walls when they had a mind to hurt them. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Summoning demons again, Gavriela?" They'd said, every time, forcing Gideon's hands around a knife, slicing their palms open. "How much punishment will it take, Belmont, for you to confess your sins?"</i>
</p><p>Gideon felt someone grasp their shoulder, their eyes went wide and they threw all their weight into the person at their side. The two collapsed to the floor; Gideon screamed incoherently and threw punches wildly, all the form their father taught them lost in the desperate need to survive. The priest directly under them stilled. Gideon looked down at them to yell, tell him to fuck off, to kill him, but their jaw felt as if it'd been screwed shut. Cold hands wrapped loosely around their wrists. </p><p>Gideon let out a harsh sob and forced themselves to breathe. <i>Look at him, Gideon, come on now,</i> came a sole rational voice at the back of their mind. They managed to force their gaze and saw Adrian holding their wrists in place gently, a series of bruises blossoming on his face.</p><p>His face was wet; Gideon's jaw shook as they watched their tears fall onto Adrian's nose and roll lazily onto the rug beneath them. They gasped like a fish out of water and scrambled off of Adrian, back onto the window seat. The two sat there in utter silence for what seemed like hours before Adrian sat up.</p><p>"Are you...are you alright?" Adrian asked softly. Gideon turned their face away from the window and glared at him. He sighed. "You can speak to me again, Gideon, I'm sorry."</p><p>"Oh, you're sorry?" The words burst out of Gideon like they'd been punched in the gut. "You're sorry?!" It was all they could say, the sensation of being moved, crowded, forced - everything burned like fire through their chest. <i>Breathe, Gideon. In for four; hold for seven; out for eight.</i></p><p>Adrian noticed the pattern - the same one from the kitchen - and stilled. "I shouldn't have touched you, just then," he said slowly, working his way around his recent sins. "Or used the thrall against you. I am...not who I once was, and, well." He paused to press at one of the bruises forming at his temple. "I...find it easy to talk to you, and that scares me."</p><p>He heard a thud - Gideon's head fell against the window, cool against the heat of their flashback. They nodded, and he only just caught the movement.</p><p>"I saw the scars," Gideon mumbled. They shuffled awkwardly, adjusting their position to look at Adrian but keep some of their skin against the window. "You don't have to tell me about it but...it really seems like you need someone to talk to."</p><p>Adrian clenched his jaw. A low roar built in his ears - on a hunch, he tried to match Gideon's breathing. The roar dulled; he cradled his head in one of his hands and tangled his hand in his damp hair.</p><p>"We're quite a pair," he murmured. Gideon snorted, a quiet laugh bubbling out of their mouth. The two sat in silence for a long while, each shadowed by exhaustion. Gideon swung their legs over the sill and leaned forward with their arms draped over their knees.</p><p>"Adrian," they said gently, meeting his eye when he looked up, "you ah...you mentioned a Trevor earlier. I just wanted to know if he's...if he's the other Belmont you told me about?"</p><p>Adrian nodded. "I traveled with him, and a...a Speaker for a time." He sighed."I have lied to you by omission, Gideon. Trevor Belmont and the Speaker, Sypha Belnades, helped me take this castle. From my father, Vlad Țepeș."</p><p>Gideon nodded, but Adrian watched as realization washed over their features. They eased themselves to the ground, sitting cross-legged in front of him. </p><p>"This...is Dracula's castle?" They asked; Adrian nodded. "And...my brother helped you defeat him?"</p><p>Adrian sighed. "Yes, as I recall he tried to punch my father when he was disarmed."</p><p>Gideon let out a huff of laughter, tears falling from their eyes again. "That uh...that sounds like Trevor," they said quietly. "Where are he and your speaker friend now?"</p><p>Adrian shrugged. "I don't know. They left."</p><hr/><p>"Trevor Belmont!" Sypha snapped. "Is this your doing?" </p><p>Trevor looked up blearily from his bedroll - Sypha was standing at the entry to their shared tent with a young boy. He looked embarrassed. Trevor squirmed an eyebrow.</p><p>"Well, Sypha, if I had a child I would imagine you would have been involved - "</p><p>"Trevor," Sypha growled. Trevor sat up and cleared his throat.</p><p>"What is Miss Sypha so upset about, Wihelm?" </p><p>"I was just braiding some leather and -” </p><p>“I know a whip when I see one, Wilhelm,” Sypha said, pinching the boy’s ear. Trevor sighed. Shit.</p><p>“Look, I thought it would be useful if the kids knew a bit about weapon making and self-defense.” Trevor crossed his arms and frowned at Sypha. “You don’t know who they might run into and we won’t always be here -”</p><p>“They could get <i>hurt</i>, Trevor -” </p><p>“Better than <i>dying in a pit,</i>” Trevor spat. Sypha stared blankly at him, fist clenched, shaking. Wilhelm’s eyes darted between the two adults before taking the opportunity to slip out and back to his friends. </p><p>The Speaker camp was a flurry of movement, adults tearing down tents and packing carts. They were on the move - parents and children chattering happily sharing stories, a stark contrast to Trevor and Sypha's bubble of silence.</p><p>Trevor turned away from Sypha in an attempt to collect himself. When they'd arrived at the camp, when he'd seen the sheer number of kids traveling with this train, he'd decided to train the oldest among them. Nothing any more rigorous than the training he'd had as a kid - in fact he probably went easy on them. </p><p>When Sypha wrapped her arms around him, Trevor realized he was shaking. He managed to maneuver Sypha into his lap, pressing a kiss into her hair. </p><p>"I'm sorry," he said, "I should have told you."</p><p>"I just want them to be able to be children, Trevor," Sypha murmured, "happy children. Not warriors."</p><p>Trevor closed his eyes, nodding gently. "I know," he said and let out the breath he was holding. "I went a little overboard, Sypha, I'm sorry."</p><p>"You're trying, Trevor, I know," Sypha said with a soft sigh. "I know. But they are safe here, I assure you."</p><p>"I just...shit when we got here I couldn't. I kept dreaming about that pit. The kids here, dying." Trevor scrubbed a hand down his face. "Training them helped. They weren't in any actual danger."</p><p>Sypha hummed and drummed her fingers on Trevor's knee. Perhaps it was time Trevor took a break; she'd just have to find the right way to get him to agree to it.</p><p>"You're joking," said Trevor flatly as he threw his belongings unceremoniously in his pack. Sypha was helping her grandfather pack their cart, the one Sypha and Trevor (and Alucard, once, long enough ago that the hole he left was starting to fade a bit) had lived in for nearly a year. Her grandfather took a moment to check on other members of the train, leaving Trevor and Sypha a slight bit of privacy. </p><p>"No, I am not," Sypha said softly. "I am worried about Alucard, and you, and I think some time on the road might be good for you." She sighed, hopping off the cart and sitting on the last box of food. </p><p>"I think you're right, about the road. But, Sypha, is…" Trevor paused, and a look crossed his face that broke Sypha's heart. He looked broken, like he'd half expected this outcome, expected Sypha to suggest this, but was taking it as abandonment. As loss. "I love you, Sypha and I was hoping you'd still felt the same," he said, looking for all the world like a child.</p><p>Sypha shot off the crate and threw her arms around Trevor; her hand curled in his hair and pulled him into a kiss. Trevor made a strangled, startled noise but slowly softened, swiping his tongue along Sypha's bottom lip, deepening the kiss when she gasped against him. </p><p>They broke and Sypha pressed her forehead against Trevor's as they both caught their breath.</p><p>"Know this, Trevor," said Sypha with fire and love and determination flickering in her bright blue eyes, "this is not goodbye. I am suggesting this only because we are carrying so much pain. I have my way of processing - telling the story, memorializing the people and children of Lindenfeld to my people. But I also know you're miserable here."</p><p>Trevor laughs, low and sad. "It was that obvious?" He asked. Sypha smirked.</p><p>"You are incredibly bad at hiding displeasure, it's true," she said with a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I will follow you as soon as the story is told and remembered. Besides, you need time to figure yourself out. Adrian, too."</p><p>Trevor wrinkled his nose. "What the hell are you getting at, Sypha Belnades?"</p><p>Sypha grinned. "I just think Adrian needs one of us to check-in, and it would be best if it was you."</p><p>"You know Alucard isn't going to want to see me," Trevor said. He pulled away from Sypha to level a suspicious look at his partner. She shrugged.</p><p>"I just have a feeling," she said, running her hands over Trevor's chest. "Are you going to fight me on this?"</p><p>Trevor sighed. "When has that ever worked out for me?"</p><p>"Exactly never," Sypha said with a bright and wicked grin. She softened when Trevor's expression fell and cupped his face in her hands. "I love you, Trevor Belmont, and this separation is temporary. I will be right behind you."</p><p>And that's how Trevor found himself well supplied and on the road with naught but a horse for company. Alone, for the first time in a year or so. He'd begun the ride west after watching the train disappear over the horizon, definitely not shedding any tears or standing for an indeterminate amount of time in a sort of daze. He'd been alone for fifteen years before this - a week's ride to the Hold (and Alucard and that bloody castle) and then, perhaps, another two weeks without Sypha would be more than manageable. Wouldn't it?</p><p>By the time he set up camp for the night he found himself craving alcohol to dull his senses, rather than just as a nice end to the day. His mouth tasted sour, like dust and bile and regret. </p><p>"Fuck," Trevor muttered to himself. Was Sypha really the only thing holding him back from drinking himself to death?</p><p>"You're being too hard on yourself, Trev," he said to himself in a slightly altered voice. It was stupid, but talking to (and as) his younger sibling had kept him alive in some cases. (<i>Did you ever tell Sypha about Gideon? Suppose not; there was never time.</i>) He had no way of knowing what they would sound like now: they were dead. But even so; "You've cut back, and that was something you did with Alucard and Sypha, and it was a choice."</p><p>"But I'm still craving it."</p><p>"It was something you relied on for a long time." The image of Gideon in his mind shrugged. "Changing things takes time, more than a few months. And you're sad."</p><p>"Yeah," Trevor said with a mirthless laugh. He was sad. But, he was certainly not crying, lord no, the smoke from his cooking fire had simply gotten in his eyes. He shook himself out of the imagined conversation and went about his night in silence.</p><hr/><p>Adrian woke with a gasp, a ragged sob punched out of him in the dark hours of the night. Every inch of scar tissue ached, again, as it had for the past three nights of terrors and he sagged forward, head in his hands, willing the hot tears to stop flowing out of his eyes. Still, his breath heaved and echoed against the bare walls of his room. </p><p>"Adrian?" Adrian jerked his head up and glanced wildly about the room. He was still too wrapped up in memories, <i>tied down and spread like a Christian in Rome, silver pinning him to an invisible cross,</i> to recognize the voice immediately. "Sorry, it's just Gideon."</p><p>"Gideon?" He asked numbly, his tongue heavy in his mouth. "What…?"</p><p>"I, uh, slept on your couch," said Gideon as they gestured to the pile of sheets and blankets on the sofa shoved unceremoniously against one of the room's far walls. This was a break in protocol, in their carefully forged pattern of careful distance.</p><p>Until now, Adrian saw Gideon in the kitchens around mealtimes - when he remembered meal times - and in his study, to check their wound (and to deliver food when he missed a meal). The wound had improved a little bit, but was harder to heal than the viral infection - so Adrian spent his days researching, and Gideon occupied themselves elsewhere.</p><p>He talked with Gideon in the evenings, as well, on one of the wall-walks. They'd have tea, and he'd usually have a glass of wine, and they'd talk about something other than Gideon's health for a time before going their separate ways. It was an enjoyable five days, all things considered, and that made Adrian nervous as much as it helped ease his frayed sanity.</p><p>Three nights ago, the night terrors started and now he'd woken up with Gideon in his room.</p><p>"From the way you're staring at me this was probably a bad idea," Gideon said and their voice was soft, calm, and infuriatingly kind. "But the last two nights I was waking up to this…this pull in the back of my mind and I figured it was the thrall, some sort of connection. And it occurred to me today that maybe I was waking up because you were - hell I wasn't able to get back to sleep that first night."</p><p>Gideon turned away, wiling the guilt off of their features. "Anyway I thought…I thought maybe it would be better if you didn't wake up alone. If, uh, if that was what was happening."</p><p>Adrian blinked slowly, and again something slid into place. <i>They care,</i> he thought, <i>about the fact that you aren't sleeping.</i> A thousand, million intrusive thoughts screamed in disagreement but Adrian was tired and this person, this bafflingly kind vampire hunter had managed to quietly sneak into his room with what appeared to be six blankets of varying weights and did so simply because he was waking up in the middle of the night. There was the usual pang of guilt, that the thrall was the reason Gideon knew about this, because they were connected to him and he was <i>waking them up</i>, but that they could discuss in the morning.</p><p>"Gideon," he said, his voice rough with sleep and terror and the beginnings of fondness. "Thank you."</p><p>"It was the right thing to do," Gideon said with a shrug. "It's okay to need people, sometimes."</p><p>Before he was conscious of what he was doing, Adrian patted the mattress next to him. When Gideon quirked an eyebrow, he smiled softly. "That couch cannot be comfortable," he said carefully, "there is more than enough space here."</p><p>Gideon hesitated before walking cautiously towards the bed. Concern swam in their eyes, their mouth pressed in a thin line.</p><p>"Please let me know if this is too much," they murmured, sitting on the very edge of the bed. </p><p>Panic flashed through Adrian's eyes but he forced himself to look at Gideon as they sat. They wore a thin shift (one they'd managed to scrounge from another room that was, blessedly, opaque, unlike the four or five chemise gowns Adrian managed to find) and appeared to be unarmed. Unthinking, he roughly pressed a hand to their back (where Trevor had kept his whip) and patted gently around their torso until he hit their wound and they winced. </p><p>"That's starting to feel tender again," said Gideon, disappointment painted on their face. Adrian withdrew his hand and laid back down to stare at the ceiling. He was exhausted.</p><p>He felt Gideon shift and the mattress dip as they settled. "What caused this impulse," Adrian asked, "if you don't mind me asking?"</p><p>Gideon rolled over onto their (left, good) side, eyes cast downward at the blankets they'd laid on. They sighed. "Honestly I came because I've found just having someone around after nightmares helps,” they said. “Both me and the other person. Trevor had really bad night terrors in the year before...well before everything." </p><p>Gideon picked at the fraying ends of the blanket beneath them, distracted. "Our father, on the request of the archbishop, sent Trevor out into the woods for evidence of fairy rings. Kids had been disappearing in Argeş and, supposedly, only children could see these particular rings."</p><p>The room fell eerily silent and for the first time in a long time the swirling, angry thoughts in Adrian's head found an external target. A growl, low and defensive, rumbled through Adrian's chest. Gideon let out a stuttering breath.</p><p>"It was not my father's finest hour," they said. Something in Adrian snapped.</p><p>"Did he often endanger his children?" He hissed, unsure of where all this anger was coming from. </p><p>"That's a fair question, I suppose," said Gideon quietly, as they pulled a particularly long thread out of Adrian's blanket. "No, he did not often put us in danger. We were...our family was under a lot of scrutiny, and Father felt the best way to protect us was to comply with the archbishop’s request. He felt Trevor had enough knowledge and skill to handle himself. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Thankfully, I followed him into the woods that day.</p><p>"I'd found him just as he entered the ring, he was in some sort of daze, and I managed to tackle him to the ground. I stuffed my fist in his mouth to make sure he couldn't give away his name." Gideon turned their gaze back up towards Adrian. "I had names long dead I could proffer. And I still had to duel a fae soldier for our lives."</p><p>They paused, allowing space for Adrian to process what he heard. He was growling again, unconsciously, the thought of two small children facing an unknowably dangerous creature on their own because of church scrutiny made the bile rise in his throat. </p><p>After a moment, Gideon continued, "Trevor lost most of his memory of our time on that side of the veil. I'd hoped he'd never remember it, but when he was twelve and I was eleven, he started screaming himself awake at night. The only way he could sleep after that was if I clambered into his bed and held him." Gideon half-shrugged. “It was the only thing I could do.” </p><p>“Trevor never spoke much about his childhood,” Adrian said after a moment. “I always assumed, aside from the fire, it was…”</p><p>“Normal?” Gideon laughed. “Nothing in the Belmont Hold was ever normal.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Why?” </p><p>“You both deserve better,” Adrian murmured, rolling onto his side to face Gideon. His eyes flashed briefly, like a cat’s eyes in the dark. They were curled in on themselves a bit, and he could see the gooseflesh on their arms. He grabbed the edge of the blanket and, after Gideon pulled themselves off of it, tossed it over their head unceremoniously. “Go to sleep, Gideon.” </p><p>Gideon sat there for a moment, taken aback. Adrian flopped over, his back to Gideon, and made a show of slowing his breathing. They chuckled and settled back down, and the two drifted back to sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter title from Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen. </p><p>Here we are - two siblings, nothing alike in dignity, imitating each other because what the fuck else are they supposed to do? No one is safe from the angst here, least of all Trevor. Now excuse me while I get used to writing in more than two character voices - it might take me a hot minute to get everything sounding right. Thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. all my life is wrapped up in today</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trevor has just a fucking doozie of a day</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Content warning for descriptions of decaying corpses, blatant blasphemy, blood, recurring illness, mentions of mind control/enthrallment.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were rumors in Argeş of a ghost at the old Belmont Hold. Trevor hadn't planned on stopping, but his horse was tired, he was tired, and his stomach growled something fierce. He threw his heavy cloak over his shoulders, hiding the family crest and settled into the pub seats with a bowl of stew and a chunk of bread.</p><p>And the locals spoke of ghosts.</p><p>"I seen it the other day," said a particularly nasty man, mouth emptied of teeth some time ago. "Pale as anything, wandering around the ruins. I'd been up there to see if any of the stones was loose, so I could fix my fencing."</p><p>Trevor's expression soured, but he held his tongue. Besides, they had to be talking about…</p><p>"Ain't nothing up there Samuel," the other man said. "You were seeing things."</p><p>"Nah I definitely saw it! A ghost of a Belmont!" Samuel slammed his drink down. "I tell ya, s'only a matter of time 'fore they come down here for revenge."</p><p>Now that was interesting. Alucard certainly didn't look like a Belmont, and this man was old enough to know the family, at least on sight. Had the dhampir taken someone in? Trevor ate his stew as casually as he could, with an ear trained on the conversation behind him. </p><p>"You're talking out your ass."</p><p>"Well what about that castle then? And the bodies?"</p><p><i>Bodies?</i> That was concerning. The ghost witness, Samuel, took a swig of something and continued.</p><p>"You know I think the ghost summoned that castle? Strung up the bodies as a warning," he said, slamming his point down again. "That family was doing black magic, makes sense they'd menace us from beyond the grave."</p><p>"Samuel Bogdan, you shut your ignorant mouth," the barkeep hollered across the room, startling Trevor, Samuel and his drinking buddy. She was an older woman, one Trevor vaguely recognized. <i>Perhaps one of the ladies from the market?</i> "You know just as well as I do we barely made it through the last year, and we would have done a damn sight better with the Belmonts than the church."</p><p>To Trevor's surprise, there was a low murmur of agreement among the patrons. He glanced around the pub - apparently, Samuel Bogdan was in the minority opinion. "Fascinating," Trevor whispered to his stew.</p><p>"You got something to say?!" Samuel spat at Trevor's back. He shrugged, didn't even turn around.</p><p>"Nothing important," he mumbled in his best approximation of the local accent. "Just trying ta' eat."</p><p>Samuel started to sputter - "Just...I know what I saw is all!"</p><p>"And you better hope that ghost don't remember you burning children to death," said the barkeep. "Now finish up and get out of my pub."</p><p>After that, Samuel Bogdan and a couple of others grumbled and left the pub glaring at the barkeep and other patrons. Trevor kept his face down; he wasn't looking for a bar fight. He finished his meal and, when the door closed again, took his bowl up to the bar. </p><p>"Thank you, ma'am," Trevor said earnestly, for the stew. "Was there any truth to what the man said?"</p><p>The woman worried the end of her gray braid and frowned. "Bogdan would say the Belmont Hold was built over the mouth of hell for attention," she growled out, taking the bowl from Trevor. "That said, there have been bodies - two of 'em - rotting on stakes at the end of the road. Don't know about this ghost business, though. Why are you so interested?" The barkeep put her hands on her hips, looking Trevor up and down. He smiled and held up a hand.</p><p>"I'm just a hunter, passing through," he said simply. "Might need to check things out up there, make sure ghosts aren't giving you trouble." Trevor sighed and adjusted his belts, pulling his cloak closer around him. "Thank you ma'am," he said with a wave, leaving the pub.</p><p>Ghosts haunting the hold was, honestly, incredibly unlikely, but if the bodies were put there by Adrian and the town folks started investigating, that could end badly. For everyone. Especially Trevor, who'd have to kill someone he...liked? Liked. Someone he liked.</p><p>Still, it was better to plan for the worst. Trevor hauled himself back to the local stable to retrieve his horse. He rode, begrudgingly, to the church - it was a burnt-out husk on the edge of town. Trevor found that darkly satisfying, walking through the ruined building. Priests from Argeş led the mob to the Belmont Hold in the middle of the night, a journey they must have started when the sun was still in the sky. Priests hurled the first torches, and priests broke his leg, beat him, made him watch the blaze, and left him for dead. So, forgive him if the crunch of stained glass under his boots have him just a little swell of joy. He was going to hell anyway.</p><p>Still, there was a font against a far wall filled with water, either from recent rains or from the last mass. Didn't matter - it should still be consecrated. (The line separating "consecration" and magic was thin, and if magic could keep the hold sealed for fifteen years, then the font should still be consecrated.) Trevor took out a few empty vials from one of the pouches on his belt and filled them. He arranged them carefully in a set of holsters near his sword. Hopefully he wouldn't need them (and they'd work if he did).</p><p>Trevor was still a half a day's ride from the hold, and despite his desire to stay, he couldn't risk staying here. He got lucky at the pub - there was no telling what would happen somewhere else. He hopped on the horse and headed north out of town.</p><hr/><p>"Well. <i>Shit</i>." Morning light streaked through the trees, and Trevor supposed it would be beautiful, if it weren't for the two decaying corpses dripping to the ground from the top of bloody pikes. He'd been hoping the bodies weren't real, but there they were. A man and a woman, if his guess was right. Slashed through the throat. "<i>Fuck,</i>" he added to an already long string of expletives.</p><p>There had to be a good reason for this - Alucard wouldn't…well, Trevor was reasonably certain Alucard wouldn't kill anyone and leave them to decay as a warning for no reason. Perhaps they were the ones the villager saw at the Hold - the "Belmont Ghosts." What remained of their hair was brown enough.</p><p>"Shit," Trevor hissed, slipping off his horse and leading it onto the grounds, left hand hovering over his sword. (It would be an awkward draw but it was better than nothing.)</p><p>The forest and grounds were eerily quiet - he'd expected to see Alucard working on something. The Hold looked much the same, aside from a new looking seal. There was plenty of damage still evident on the outside of the castle. <i>What has Alucard been doing...aside from killing two people,</i> Trevor thought bitterly. </p><p>He hitched the horse to a tree, looped a bag of oats around its ears, and set out to investigate the family home. He didn't feel up to facing the castle just yet. </p><p>"Okay, house," Trevor mumbled. "Definitely not-haunted family home. What's up with you?" He walked slowly around the perimeter of the hold - <i>god it was bigger than he remembered, it was always bigger than he remembered</i> - noting any major changes. The stonework in front had been cleaned up and repaired; there were the beginnings of a new door built into the main entry. As he walked, Trevor imagined Alucard working on the corpse of the Belmont estate and something odd twisted in his chest. Something close to the stabs of loneliness Trevor was prone to on the road. <i>Why had they left the dhampir alone?</i> In the cold light of Trevor's slow inspection, that felt like a fatal decision on their part. He swallowed around the discomfort and pressed on.</p><p>His feet took him to the old, overgrown path to the training grounds. While he was still some distance away (<i>his older siblings fought with burning weapons, enchanted shields. Mother's garden caught on fire once and she'd nearly had everyone's heads</i>) he could see someone hunched in the field pulling at weeds. </p><p>Trevor stopped, just for a moment. From this distance, all he could make out clearly was the color of the person's clothes - a white top and black pants...potentially. Certainly could be Alucard, but it was odd that he hadn't heard Trevor yet. </p><p>Trevor decided to walk closer; the figure shifted from sitting cross-legged to hunching over on their knees, working on a particularly difficult weed. There was nothing for it.</p><p>"Alucard?" He yelled, still keeping a steady approach. It occurred to Trevor he wasn't quite sure what to say, so he went with "Sypha sent me to check up on you!"</p><p>The figure startled, falling backward, and Trevor caught sight of brown hair on their head, rather than blonde. They looked up and scrambled to their feet; they moved quickly enough that they stumbled over themselves and swore loudly as Trevor approached. </p><p>"Trevor?!" They yelled back once they'd steadied themselves. "Trev? Jesus Christ, Trev, is that really you?"</p><p>The figure was running toward him, and before he'd really process the voice, Trevor was running, too. The only person who'd ever really called him Trev was…</p><p>"Gideon?" He said breathlessly, confused, thoroughly convinced he was hallucinating until a lithe form slammed into him, knocking them both to the ground. "Gid?" Trevor said as their grip tightened around him. </p><p>"He wasn't lying," they breathed, and they were sobbing, and Trevor managed the presence of mind to sit both of them up and just look at the person in front of him.</p><p>Gideon looked at Trevor with tear stains streaking down their face - they were definitely wearing one of Alucard's tops, but he'd get to that in a minute. His hands clasped their face for a minute, tracing a scar they'd gotten from an ill aimed whip crack as kids. </p><p>"How...what the <i>fuck</i>," Trevor breathed, and Gideon laughed, hiccuping slightly through their tears. </p><p>"You're <i>alive,</i>" they said before hugging him again. This time, he wrapped his arms around Gideon and held them like his life depended on it. </p><p>This was turning out to be a fucking doozie of a day.</p><p>The two sat there for a while as if letting go would mean losing each other again. "I thought you were dead," Trevor whispered, over and over, Gideon nodding into his chest and murmuring answers to his unasked questions but he couldn't follow them. All his brain supplied was <i>they're alive they've been alive they're here now Gideon is here</i> loudly and on repeat. They could tell him the story later, when he'd calmed down. And potentially had a drink. </p><p>Gideon took a few steadying breaths and slowly disentangled themselves from Trevor. He exhaled, hard. </p><p>"Gideon, what in the <i>fuck</i> are you doing here?" He asked. They smiled and stood up, offing Trevor their hand.</p><p>"It's a long story," they said. Trevor gripped their hand and they hauled him up. "Adrian's been taking care of me, though."</p><p>"He's still here then?" Trevor asked with an eyebrow raised. "Good, I'm here to check on him and uh…you've seen the bodies right?"</p><p>Gideon winced. "Yeah, I haven't been able to take them down. My strength hasn't quite returned."</p><p>Trevor's narrowed his eyes. He held Gideon at arm's length, just taking in their solid, physical presence again. Their hair was long, braided neatly to keep it at the side - their mother would have been thrilled at the feminine quality of their face. Their shoulders were wide, solid, and Gideon looked as much a hunter as he'd have expected. Gideon quirked an eyebrow and looked at him sideways.</p><p>"You gonna just stare at me all day?" They said, light playing in their eyes. And that's when Trevor saw it - a familiar gold ringed around their blue irises.</p><p>His entire demeanor changed. "What is going on, Gideon?" He growled out the question, immediately letting go of his sibling. </p><p>Gideon's brow furrowed. "What's going on--oh," they said, raising a hand to their corner of their eye. Their face shifted, eyes wide. "Trevor, no, it's not what you think…"</p><p>Trevor threw a glance over at the bodies and scowled, deep and foreboding. "Not what I think?" he said darkly. He drew his whip and made for the castle, bodily pushing past Gideon.</p><p>"Trevor, wait!" Gideon called after him, but he didn't slow, not when their footsteps picked up speed, not when they started coughing, not until - </p><p>There was a heavy thud behind him, Gideon's pursuit stopped, and their coughing intensified. Trevor whirled around, expecting a trap, expecting his enthralled sibling to claw at him. Instead, they were curled in on themselves, wracked with shaking, heavy coughs that spewed blood onto the ground.</p><p>"Gideon!" Trevor dropped Morning Star, anger and suspicion forgotten, and ran back to his sibling. Their breathing was incredibly shallow and quick for how deep the coughing sounded. They gasped as though something was choking them.</p><p>"Bring them inside!" A familiar voice yelled urgently from the castle steps. Trevor grasped Gideon's shoulders and looked up to see Alucard beckoning them. He frowned, bit back an insult and lifted Gideon off the ground.</p><p>"Can you walk," he whispered. Gideon nodded and threw their left arm around Trevor's shoulders, heavily favoring their left side. "What the hell happened, Gid?"</p><p>"I told you, it's a long story," they said, words stilted through rushed breathing. "I'll have to tell you sometime."</p><p>"Yeah, you'd better," Trevor growled, hauling Gideon with him towards the castle, stopping only to grab Morning Star from where it lay in the grass. </p><p>Alucard met them at the door - for a terrifying moment, Trevor was certain he was going to take Gideon away from him. Instead, he fell in lock-step with them to the right of Gideon, firing questions at them.</p><p>"How long were you out?"</p><p>"An hour perhaps? I don't know I was in the training field…"</p><p>"Are you wearing a --"</p><p>"Haven't bound my chest in two and a half weeks, Adrian, you know that."</p><p>"I have to check. What happened?" Alucard asked, bringing their slow march to a stop at the grand staircase in the main hall. Gideon grimaced, allowing Trevor to adjust his grip and the placement of Gideon's left arm around his shoulders. Alucard's fingers drummed against his crossed arms, impatient, it seemed, with Gideon's pause. Trevor"s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something when Gideon interrupted.</p><p>"Over excitement," they told the dhampir, "Trevor was making his way to the castle and the cough began when I tried to catch up with him." </p><p>Not strictly a lie - Alucard narrowed his eyes but let the explanation drop. He slipped his arm under Gideon's right shoulder, his hand pressed gently into Trevor's back in order to help the hunter guide Gideon up the stairs. A hiss escaped Gideon's lips when his side pressed against their ribs.</p><p>It took ages to get Gideon to their room. The three of them stopped often to let Gideon catch their breath or cough. Trevor had never seen his sibling this weak with illness. It occurred to him that, though they'd just found each other, he might lose Gideon. Again. He grit his teeth against that panic until Alucard turned their desperate caravan toward a door and pulled away from Gideon.</p><p>"Go ahead and get settled, Gideon," he said gently. Gideon nodded, extracting themselves from Trevor's grip; they pressed a kiss to his worried brow and eased themselves into the bedroom, clicking the door shut behind them. Trevor swallowed around the terror building in his throat and gripped uselessly at his sword.</p><p>"They're dying," he said flatly. Alucard looked at him with an eerie mix of feral terror and rage, his face so screwed up in a snarl it startled Trevor out of his panic for a moment. Alucard breathed heavily, glancing between Trevor and his sword; the hunter loosened his grip.</p><p>"Gideon is dying," Alucard confirmed, his voice even and cold. He spoke as if he'd practiced this explanation. "I made a decision to treat them as best as I can. I will find a cure or I won't."</p><p>"So you enthralled them?" It came out like an accusation. Alucard growled, his teeth bared like a caged wolf.</p><p>"It was their choice," he hissed and he reached for the door. Trevor caught his wrist.</p><p>"Belmont." Adrian's voice was hoarse and wild, a barely restrained warning. </p><p>"What the holy fuck happened here, Alucard?" Trevor murmured. He traced the rigidity and tension in Alucard's body. Since they'd entered the castle - perhaps, specifically since Trevor entered the castle - his former friend behaved as a caged animal, anxiety and terror and survival in every movement.</p><p>Adrian laughed; the mirthless and terrifying sound echoed down the hall. "That's right you wouldn't know," he said, manic energy warping his face. "You left."</p><p>He wrenched his wrist from Trevor's grip and pushed into Gideon's room, closing the two off from Trevor. He scoffed at the door, and made to leave, maybe find a wine cellar or old store of skunked booze. God he needed a drink - needed one for days, but now he felt like perhaps he'd earned one. You can only watch a sibling die so many times, really, and be expected to cope healthily. </p><p>Four or five steps into the journey Trevor's legs gave out from underneath him. He lay on the floor for a while, because this may as well happen, given everything. Eventually, he managed the energy needed to pull himself around a corner and sit against a cold stone wall, willing tears away from his eyes. This was not what he'd been expecting. </p><p>There was the shock of seeing Gideon, here, of all places, the only thing keeping that stupid asshole alive was a vampire's blood. Trevor threw his head back against the wall, hard, as if giving himself a concussion might wake him up from this absolute nightmare. </p><p>When the third or fourth collision did nothing but spread the pain down into his neck - shit - Trevor forced himself off the floor and strode out of the castle. If no one was going to tell him what was going on, he'd make himself useful.</p><p>Those bodies were getting some sort of burial.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter title from Ghost Town by Radical Face </p><p>W E L P that was a doozie of a chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. no coming home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bodies are buried and Gideon makes a stew: featuring the Belmont Variety Hour</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Content warning for decaying bodies, talks of burials, negative self talk and mentions of food and cooking.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time Trevor tossed the last shovelful of dirt on the double grave, it was late in the afternoon. He was exhausted, but most of the anger and confusion from earlier in the day seeped out of him. And into a grave. For two people who did...something bad. Trevor sighed, satisfied with his work and covered in layers of grime. He smelled awful. </p>
<p>"Let's see if I can remember where those stupid baths are," Trevor mumbled to himself. It took him an hour just to find a fucking shovel. He counted the chances of finding a bath and working it on his own as pretty slim. Still, Trevor slung the shovel over his shoulder and headed back inside, sludge and all.</p>
<p>Dracula's castle felt eerily quiet, which struck Trevor as odd. He'd only ever graced the halls in the midst of battle or in the calm of victory. Somehow knowing Gideon and Alucard were floating around somewhere made things worse. The 'grand hall' of an entryway looked much the same as Trevor had seen it last - the stone work was destroyed in places, blood stains marred the once brilliant carpets. Alucard really hadn't done much with the place. </p>
<p>Guilt twisted a Trevor again - he and Sypha galavanted about, having adventures, and Alucard wasted away here. Alone. Gideon was alive and had been alone for fifteen years. His fault, really, he'd never looked for them.</p>
<p>Trevor scowled at himself. Bath first, guilt later. </p>
<p>He found a room full of ornate tubs, and managed to figure out how the damn things worked ,within an hour. Normally, Trevor washed with scentless soaps but this was a fucking vampire castle so every soap he found stank to high heaven. Near the back of one of the cabinets, he found something that smelled of sage and mint, which was the least offensive thing he'd found. Trevor snatched the bar and a towel, and put both next to the full tub. For a moment, he considered just sinking into the tub, but the thought of soaking in water with a thin sheet of grime and death made him gag.</p>
<p>Instead, he shuffled out of his clothes and filled a bucket with warm water. Not seeing a drain, Trevor stood in another empty tub - those all definitely had drains - and up-ended the water over his head and used a cloth to remove some of the more egregious grime.</p>
<p>Bathing for Trevor was strictly an efficient affair - had been since he was fifteen and jumped by a bandit in the middle of a river. It was a luxury Trevor rarely deserved. Still he took his time, going so far as to run soap through his hair. Extravagant, truely.</p>
<p>It didn't occur to Trevor until he was dry that his pack was out on the horse. <i>Shit.</i> Trevor groaned. Nothing for it then, he thought, grabbing his clothes and dumping then unceremoniously in the tub. He ran the hot water again and began soaping up his undergarments, tunic and pants; the pageantry and utility of his belts and pouches and pauldrons and whatever else could wait. </p>
<p>"That's not the soap you should be using."</p>
<p>Trevor jumped, his hand lost its grip on the brass side of the tub and he splashed into the wash-water. Alucard snorted somewhere behind him.</p>
<p>"Honestly, I'm surprised you know how to wash your clothing," he sneered. Trevor scrambled to wrap the towel back around his waist (he'd been kneeling on it to save his knees) and shook the water back out of his hair. He pictured Alucard glaring behind him. "To what do I owe my thanks for forcing you to clean?"</p>
<p>Trevor paused, considering his next move. He sighed, releasing the tension in his shoulders and, rather than turning around, he returned to scrubbing. "I buried the bodies at the edge of the property," he said calmly, trying his hardest to avoid the well worn pattern of spite and annoyance Alucard naturally brought out in him. "They're in the ground, unmarked. Wasn't sure they deserved marking."</p>
<p>The noise Alucard made was twisted, pained and angry and feral, and Trevor's hackles raised. An unsure voice in the back of his head reminded Trevor, <i>he won't hurt you, he'd never hurt you</i>, but the rest of him wasn't sure any more. Still, he managed to keep a firm grip on the soap, rubbing rot stains out of his black tunic.</p>
<p>"Also, I forgot my pack," he continued quietly, "it's with my horse."  He didn't give details, because he didn't expect Alucard to do anything with this information - he was surprised when he heard the dhampir turn on his heel to leave. </p>
<p>It took time, and a few rinses, but Trevor's clothes came out clean eventually. Trevor coopted a couple of chairs from the sides of the room and draped his clothes between them to dry before settling down in a corner and dozing off.</p>
<p>Something heavy slammed into Trevor's chest, knocking the wind out of him. He looked up blearily at Alucard, who glowered from the doorway. </p>
<p>"Get dressed for fuck's sake," he spat before storming off down the hallway. Trevor looked down at his pack, then back at the door. <i>What the</i> fuck.</p>
<p>Dressed and thoroughly confused, Trevor left the stifling humidity of the baths in search of Gideon. He clearly wasn't getting anywhere with Alucard right now, and he may as well see if his sibling was up and about. After wandering the hallways for a while, he came upon Gideon's room - door ajar. He peered in and, after a quick visual inventory of their things, determined they weren't in.</p>
<p>Trevor hummed and decided to continue down the hall - either he'd find Gideon or he'd find a kitchen and wait for someone to find him. As he walked, trying his best to ignore the decor that screamed vampire at him, he started hearing singing. He couldn't make out the words, specifically, but it sounded to him like one of the songs his mother used to sing. </p>
<p>Ignoring all his instincts - <i>you're in a vampire's castle run by your unhinged friend and you could definitely be hallucinating and what's more...</i> - Trevor followed the trail of song down past the grand entry, through some twisting hallways and into a kitchen. From the doorway he saw Gideon, their back turned to him, chopping through a set of herbs with a ridiculously sharp knife. They were still wearing a loose set of trousers and one of Alucard's shirts, their bare feet tapping gently against the tiles when they moved on time with their song.</p>
<p>They sang an old Romainian folk song, one passed down through their family, about kings and haunted country sides. It was a melancholy tale, but one that he and Gideon had sung themselves so many times that it doesn't surprise him when he finds the words on his lips, his singing voice scratchy and cracked from disuse.</p>
<p>Gideon glanced back at him with a smile and returned to their chopping pattern, the melody carrying them through their work. Trevor settled into a chair at the table and watched Gideon dump their herbs into a crucible and, with the addition of some water, work them into a fine paste. By the time their singing came to an end, they'd scraped the poultice into a small container and slipped it into their pocket. </p>
<p>Gideon draped themselves over Trevor from behind, hugging him tightly against the chair. He felt himself frown. Fifteen years and their first meeting had gone...less than well. <i>Good job, asshole</i>, he chided himself.</p>
<p>"You've not sung in a while," Gideon chides in his ear. He could hear their smile, despite it not making sense to him. They should be angry with him, chastise him for his behavior or something that's not singing and smiling and acting as if this is normal. Gideon pulled away and slid into the seat next to him, looking at him as if he might vanish any second. Trevor turned and faced Gideon. Their eyes were a blue-green, the color of the ocean at night, ringed with gold. Still nearly entirely themselves, he reminded himself, unwilling to believe Alucard had no influence over Gideon. True enthrallment changed the eyes completely, however, so for now he would drop his suspicions.</p>
<p>"You're quiet," Gideon said, shaking Trevor's train of thought. "I'm sorry about earlier. I wasn't expecting things to deteriorate so quickly. At least not today. I'd thought we'd figured out the pattern." Their lips were pressed into a thin line. </p>
<p>"I highly doubt you were expecting to chase after the ghost of your brother, to be fair," Trevor offered. Gideon got a curious look on their face and punched him. Hard. "Ow, what the fuck, Gid?"</p>
<p>"You feel solid, so not a ghost then," they muttered. "And you're definitely not rotted through enough to be undead."</p>
<p>Trevor frowned. "I could be a werewolf," he postulated. Gideon reached forward and grabbed his chin.</p>
<p>"With this piss poor excuse for a beard?" They <i>tsked</i>, releasing Trevor's face with a flick of their wrist. "No I'm thinking you're a doppelgänger."</p>
<p>Trevor hummed nodding. "A distinct possibility." They stared at each other intensely for a moment, scrutinizing each other as if waiting for something. The silence stretched on until Gideon's face cracked with a grin, and Trevor felt laughter rising in his chest and soon they were both laughing, loud and like they'd never laughed in their lives.</p>
<p>"Jesus Christ, Gid, it's….'good to see you' doesn't even begin to cover it," Trevor said, wiping tears from his eyes. Gideon grinned and nudged Trevor's shoulder again. "I mean it," he adds quietly. Gideon's features softened; they nodded and settled back into their chair. </p>
<p>"I saw you buried them," Gideon said, "Good. I don't think Adrian would have let me go through the effort and they needed to come down."</p>
<p>"Who were they?" </p>
<p>"I don't know," Gideon said, glancing down at the table. "He won't tell me and I haven't pushed it. The first week I was here was...rough."</p>
<p>"How long have you been here?"</p>
<p>Gideon looked at the ceiling, silently counting the days. "Two and a half weeks, give or take. I've spent a lot of time in the Hold and Adrian doesn't keep track so...I could be off," they said with a half-hearted shrug.</p>
<p>Silence filled the kitchen and Gideon breathed out, hard. "Adrian...I know he's in a lot of pain, but he...he keeps me at a distance, mostly," they said, running their hands up their arms. "I've helped him through enough panic to know that those two, the ones you buried? They rattled him something fierce." </p>
<p>Trevor hummed. "Suppose I should...be a little nicer," he said after a heavy pause. "It's been a few months. He uh...he's Adrian to you, huh?"</p>
<p>Gideon's brow furrowed. "That's the name he gave me," they said quietly, "Is that not the name you use for him?"</p>
<p>"He uh...asked us to call him Alucard," Trevor said, running a hand through his hair. "It's the name humans gave him. Adrian is what his parents called him."</p>
<p>Gideon paused. "...'Alucard' is just Dracula backwards." Trevor stared at them as they frowned. "Who the fuck came up with that?"</p>
<p>"Someone in Greşit, probably," Trevor said with a shrug. He looked over at the window. "I never would have thought I'd be nostalgic for fighting Dracula's night hordes."</p>
<p>Gideon reached over and laid a hand on Trevor's shoulder. This was hard. He'd lived the last fifteen years assuming he was alone, the last and most disappointing node on the Belmont family tree. But here was his closest sibling, the one he'd trained with most, who shared their secrets with him in the dead of night, alive and... not well, but alive.</p>
<p>"How'd you get out, Gid?" He asked absentmindedly, still tracing the landscape through the kitchen window.</p>
<p>Gideon pulled their hand back towards themselves. "Mother sent me to the blacksmith, the one in the western village, to pick up a sword she had sent there for repairs," they said quietly. "I...dallied in the village a while, because the repairs weren't finished when I arrived. By the time I made it home with the sword, the hold was already alight.</p>
<p>"A group of priests were there. They grabbed me, and the sword, and dragged me to the church in Argeş. 'We can break her,' they said. They forced me into the nunnery there, kept the sword as a perverse prize in the armory."</p>
<p>"Fuck," Trevor hissed. Gideon held out their hands to show the two rope-like scars on each palm. </p>
<p>"I managed to befriend the Mother Superior because the priests insisted on slow tortures," Gideon continued. "She was the only one who saw my injuries and believed me. She gave me the armory key after the church decided to relocate her. I killed the fuckers."</p>
<p>"You were 12 by then, yeah?" Trevor took a deep breath. "Serves them right."</p>
<p>Gideon let out a tired sigh and folded their hands together. "Anyway, I took that opportunity to alleviate the church of their tithes, and went west," they continued, "fell in with a witch-doctor for a little while, before moving to Fetra - a small town a days ride west of here. Got a job as a baker."</p>
<p>"That's remarkably banal," Trevor muttered. "People actually...took you in?"</p>
<p>Gideon raised an eyebrow. "Yeah...I mean the witch-doctor was just...she was a midwife and by the time I found her, the wounds on my hands were infected. And the baker...did you live on your own the whole time?"</p>
<p>Trevor looked away for a moment. "All I had were clothes with our Crest on them," he said flatly. He didn't need Gideon's pity or anger or….whatever they were feeling. It would be too much. He was surprised, then, when he heard Gideon get up.</p>
<p>"You must be hungry," they said softly, patting Trevor's shoulder. "I'll get some stew started."</p>
<p>The kitchen fell quiet save for the quiet tap of a knife on a cutting board and the roiling of the cauldron over the fire. Occasionally, the slip of ingredients into the stew. It felt almost like home. It felt incredibly wrong. Every muscle in Trevor's body tensed and he fought the urge to run. When he closed his eyes he saw shelves of shoes and fire.</p>
<p>Maybe this is what Sypha meant he needed to work on. </p>
<p>It took a while, but eventually Gideon's singing broke through Trevor's fugue and gradually he found himself harmonizing quietly. Song filled the space while Gideon carefully stirred and spiced and prepared the meal. And the Belmonts sang for the second time in fifteen years.</p><hr/>
<p>Adrian hovered by the door - the smell of Gideon's cooking lured him out of the study he'd hidden in. The singing was not unexpected, really, because Gideon always sang but Belmont? His voice was rough and unpracticed, and it made something twist in Adrian's chest.</p>
<p>Belmonts apparently made him feel things. <i>Annoying.</i></p>
<p>For a moment he considered leaving, picking at the leftovers sometime in the night. Until…</p>
<p>"Adrian, I can see you in the doorway," Gideon said flatly, in the middle of a verse, throwing Trevor completely off. "You better sit your vampire ass down at the table."</p>
<p>Adrian scoffed, but strode into the kitchen despite himself. Trevor snorted. </p>
<p>"Does enthrallment work both ways?" Trevor said with a hint of a sneer. Adrian rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>"I know you two fake hate each other or whatever, but you're not allowed to kill each other at the table," Gideon said as they pulled the stew carefully away from the fire. </p>
<p>"You sound like mom," Trevor mumbled, shifting to sit properly in his chair.</p>
<p>"Mother was a wise woman." Gideon slid bowls of stew and chunks of bread in front of both Adrian and Trevor before settling down themselves. Adrian stood for a moment to retrieve glasses of water for everyone. It was painfully domestic.</p>
<p>"So you were taught manners," Adrain chided as he handed Trevor a glass. "I'm shocked."</p>
<p>"Yeah well fifteen years in the woods will erode a few things," Trevor growled. Gideon shot Adrian a look that gently asked him to leave off. He did and the three fell into an uneasy silence. Having two Belmonts around, two hunters, changed things - Adrian's mind raced and he wished his presence hadn't stopped the easy camaraderie between the Belmont siblings. Things would be better if Adrian wasn't here, of that he was convinced. He felt Gideon's eyes on him, but he refused to meet their gaze. The only solution for it would be to redouble his efforts to cure Gideon. Then everyone could get on with their lives without him</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's finally done! Thank you all for your patience.</p>
<p>I did want to mention, gently, a small thing about comment etiquette. I love and appreciate all of your comments immensely!</p>
<p>It is however, super disheartening to hear 'I don't usually like OCs BUT I like this one' It feels as if you're throwing people under the bus in order to compliment my writing. I definitely wrote some bad fic featuring OCs back in the day and I feel equally thrown under the bus when comments are written like this. So, while I try to comment back to everyone, there will likely be some that I skip, usually for this reason. I don't mean it personal. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. hiatus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TL;DR This fic is going on hiatus while I take a mental heath break and figure out the plot</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hi Friends! I want to thank you all for reading this far into 'Name Like Mine' and for all your kind comments. In an early Author's Note, I mentioned that due to current events and my own struggles with mental illness, there might be delays in this fic updating. I've reached a point where I can't get into the headspace needed to write for Adrian, Gideon, and Trevor. I gotta take a break not only somi can find the story again, but so I can write things that bring me some happiness right now. So! I'll probably pop in with some other fics before this comes off hiatus, but I WILL come back to this one. I love it too much to let it go unfinished.</p><p>When I have a good chunk of the remaining plot written, I will come back and update this chapter with actual story content. Thank you so much for understanding!</p><p>- Gideon (concertconfetti)</p>
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